Luncheon Expectation

[This story is written to an exactly 750 words for the 750 Word Project 2022.]

Maggie leaned into the foyer mirror, checking her makeup. She was meeting him for lunch—his suggestion—at Sardies, her favorite restaurant, where Brandon had first proposed. He said he had something important to ask her. She could only hope what that would be. She couldn't help but smile, but then she grimaced. What was he up to?

She shouldn't have let him in last evening, but he was standing there, with a bouquet and a box of chocolates—and that winsome, boyish smile of his.

"You thought I wouldn't remember our tenth wedding anniversary?" he asked.

She'd been fussing about the anniversary all day. It was their tenth wedding anniversary, but they'd been divorced for two of those years. They were still wrangling over the settlement. She hadn't seen him for months and that had been in a lawyer's office.

What was he up to? Why was she so weak to him?

And she had been weak. He'd taken her last night, bent over a sofa arm, fucking her the way he always liked—like no other man had ever done. He'd covered her from behind and on top, clutching and working her breasts with one hand, his face nuzzled into the hollow of her throat, that magnificent shaft of his splitting her folds, deep in her pussy, slaying her there, the fingers of his other hand working her clit. She exploded for him before he changed to his own particular pleasure, moving from her pussy to her other entrance. She'd cried out and writhed within his embrace as he penetrated her ass and fucked her there to his own completion.

"Happy anniversary," he'd murmured in her ear when he'd come deep inside her. She'd surrendered. She sighed for him.

Only Brandon did that with her—to her. And it had been too long. "Never again" she said at the lawyer's office to his greed about the settlement. It hadn't happened again until last night, their tenth anniversary. Yes, she had missed it—even the anal fuck. Maybe especially the anal fuck.

Afterward he'd asked her to meet him at Sardies for lunch today. He had something important to ask her.

She couldn't say she wasn't hoping he'd ask her to take him back. She didn't care about the men—his men—or that her friends said Brandon, ten years younger than she was, had married her for her money. He was handsome and he was witty. He made her laugh. He made her feel fifteen years younger.

And he fucked her in the ass. She couldn't say that only was his fetish.

* * * *

She'd been waiting at Sardies twenty minutes beyond the agreed time. She was on her second martini. Her face lit up in a smile when she saw him at the host's desk. He was a gorgeous young man, in very fit condition. He wore his elegant clothes well. He was a movie star—or he would be someday, she was sure. He was a tennis pro and community theater actor now, but Maggie knew he was destined for much more.

He saw her, flashed a smile at Andre, the maître d', before coming to the table and had a few more words and a laugh with their young waiter before sitting.

"You are glowing," he said, as he sat down across from Maggie. "We should celebrate anniversaries more often."

Maggie blushed, looking down at the hands folded in her lap. She was afraid to put her hands on the table, lest he reach over and take one. God, she wanted him to take her hand—and so much more.

"Last night was memorable," he said. "What are you doing tonight?"

She didn't know what to say. She knew what she wanted to say, but they'd been through so much in the last two years. Her friends kept saying he was poison and she should make a clean breast of it. The waiter saved her from saying anything. He appeared and Brandon flirted with him as they gave their orders.

Later, Brandon finally got to asking the question he wanted to. Maggie prepared herself for "the" question. Would she take him back?

"The Maggie1," he said. "Our boat. You never were interested in that. I'd like full ownership."

He was flirting with the waiter again when she fled to the ladies' room—and then out the back door. Her cellphone buzzed, with the message, "Where RU?".

Her finger hovered over the responding button.